Stepping off the train and onto the platform in Magnolia had everyone but Bickslow smiling. He couldn't smile. Not when he was almost positive Lucy was there too.
Until Bickslow had stepped onto that platform, he really hadn't been sure if Lucy would be there. He'd hoped and wanted to assume that she was still off and living a hopefully happy life, wherever that may be, and that she didn't know about the guild, or at least realised that it would be a far better decision to stay away from it all. Bickslow had needed her to stay away, especially when he knew that coming back would be too hard for her.
It didn't matter that Bickslow knew that Lucy was the strongest woman – no, person – he'd ever met and had the great pleasure of knowing. He knew that she was the type to fight for something and never give up; she never backed down and she never ran from anything. And her strength was just one of the countless things Bickslow loved about her. But no matter how strong she was and how much he loved her because of it, he knew that there were some things that really were worth running from. Especially if running and giving up meant leaving a life full of sorrow and misery behind, and running towards one full of hope and happiness. Eventually.
Even then, though, running wasn't Lucy being weak. She would never be weak in Bickslow's eyes, and he loathed the time that he'd thought that of her, someone he knew nothing about at the time. If Lucy had been weak, she would have stayed in Magnolia and let everything get to her. If she had been weak, she would have bottled everything up and closed herself off even more, and watched the world try its best to revolve and move on around her.
But Lucy was strong, and she hadn't done that. She hadn't stayed in a place that was hurting her, and she'd found the strength and had the courage to walk away from a life she'd once loved. She'd been able to uproot her entire life and leave the ones she loved behind for a chance at a happier life.
Bickslow was almost envious of that strength too. He wasn't strong, not like her. He was weak. If he had been Lucy, he wouldn't have been able to leave. He would have let everything get worse because he just wouldn't have had the strength or courage to get away from it all, not when his entire life was there. It didn't matter that he'd actually left, either. Bickslow leaving nearly a year earlier hadn't been him being strong. No, it had been him being weak.
The hardest thing Bickslow would ever have to do in his entire life hadn't been because he was trying to be strong, but because he was weak. Lucy had always been the strong one, not him, and when he'd needed to be the strong one for a change, he hadn't been able to. He hadn't known how to; leaving was because he'd run out of ideas and he'd let himself believe it was the best thing for her.
He had run from his problems because he hadn't been strong enough to help his girlfriend when she'd needed him. But he just hadn't known how to help her. Leaving had truly been the last resort, but Bickslow hadn't been able to stop himself from wondering what could have happened if he'd been just that little stronger. Maybe if he'd been stronger – a better person and a better boyfriend, even (and god knew that that he wasn't the best, and even then, he still knew he'd never quite deserved to have someone like Lucy as his girlfriend) – he would have been able to help her. Maybe he would have thought of something that would make her come out of that nest she'd crawled in to.
It didn't matter how many times Bickslow told himself, or Evergreen and Freed told him, that it really had been all for her benefit. That leaving, though the hardest thing he'd ever done or could ever do in his entire life, hadn't been for nothing. The thought that there might have been something else he could have done to help her had always been at the back of his mind, and there hadn't been a single day where had hadn't needed to remind himself that he'd done his absolute best to help her and make her happy again.
But when he stepped off that train and onto that platform in Magnolia, Bickslow knew that Lucy was there somewhere. She wasn't off enjoying her life as a reporter, moving on and getting happier. She had come back and Bickslow knew it was because of the guild.
He didn't even know how he knew she was there. Not really, anyway. It was just a feeling, if anything; it was like a tug on his soul. It was the only way Bickslow could explain it, and he'd felt something similar when he'd left Magnolia in the first place. It was something Bickslow would never be able to completely understand, just because he felt like it was something that went above him. It went above everything physical or even really emotional, because Bickslow could tell that it was about Lucy being the one.
And he'd never believed in stuff like that until he'd met her, and he sure as hell hadn't believed in the idea of there being that one person for everybody for a while after that. He didn't quite believe in the idea of soulmates existing, and Bickslow knew it was strange that he didn't considering his magic, but it was just one of those things he didn't believe in. Not really, anyway.
Or at least he hadn't until he realised just what that feeling was when he'd left, and again when he'd come back. If soulmates existed, then Lucy would be his. Without a doubt. But it was just something else he couldn't quite describe, because it was just a feeling. She was the woman he was supposed to – and had been more than willing to, not to mention excited over – have spent the rest of his life with. He loved her more than anything in the entire world, more than life itself, and even himself. She was everything he needed, and in his head, that constituted her being his soulmate. Plus a million other things that he couldn't put into words, because he didn't think they existed. Not to describe Lucy the way he wanted to, anyway.
But still, she was there somewhere. He knew it and could feel it because of that, and even when he so desperately wanted to see her – to see her gorgeous face again and that smile – he was terrified. He was absolutely terrified of seeing her, and it had him almost shaking and not being able to breathe on the platform.
He wanted to see her, but he couldn't. He was so scared of seeing the one woman he loved more than anything in the world because he was scared of what she thought of him. He was scared of her hating him, especially after the stunt he'd pulled with sending her the ring. She had been supposed to be getting over him and forgetting about him, not being reminded of the promise that he'd broken.
Bickslow had quite literally promised to propose and marry her. It had just come up in one of the weird conversations they had before bed, where Lucy had asked not too long after he'd taken her back to the place everything had begun if he really was going to propose. And he'd promised he would. Eventually. When she least expected it, maybe.
He'd broken a promise he'd never wanted to break, or expected to break. He didn't even want to think about how much he'd actually hurt her by leaving when she'd needed someone the most. If Lucy hated him, then Bickslow knew he deserved it. If he'd ended up breaking her heart, then he'd find a way to live with it. Because after all, he'd made her promise that she would leave and never look back if he ever did break her heart again.
It was everything she could feel and think of him that had Bickslow so terrified and anxious about finally seeing her again after all that time, and even though he so desperately hoped that she still loved him at least a little bit, and had forgiven him and actually seen the reasoning behind everything he'd done, he couldn't see her right then.
He knew he'd have to face her eventually, but then right, it was all too much. He needed just a little bit more time to get his thoughts into order. He needed to convince himself that nothing was as bad as it seemed, and that when he did finally see her again, she wouldn't be telling him how much she hated him.
So Bickslow looked up to Evergreen and Freed before him then as he slowly trudged behind them on the platform. The two had been so excited to finally come back to Magnolia and to help with the guild, and Bickslow had had to admit that it had worn off on him just a little bit. "Guys," he said quietly then, just loud enough to get their attention as they stopped and turned around. "I can't… I think I need just a few more days…"
"What do you mean, Bickslow?" Freed asked. The two mages had lost their excited grins, and instead they were both frowning at the obviously troubled Seith mage.
He just shrugged. "The town. I can't do it right now. I just need a few more days to get my head around everything," he explained. He wasn't going to tell them that he knew Lucy was there, and he sure as hell wasn't going to say that he was too afraid of seeing his ex and the one person he wanted to see more than anything.
But Bickslow's explanation was enough for his two friends. They knew coming back wasn't going to be particularly easy for Bickslow, but he'd assured them it would be okay, and they believed him. Eventually. But if he needed just a few more days, then that was okay. They weren't going to force him into anything, and Bickslow knew better than anyone what he needed.
"Where will you go?" Evergreen asked quietly.
"I'll probably just go to Hargeon. Stay there for a bit then come back and sort out my apartment, I suppose," he shrugged. The gym was a place he could stay and could get everything out, anyway. "I'll um… I'll just leave now. Get there before noon, I guess." He turned and picked up his bag to throw it over his shoulder, and he waved behind himself as he quickly headed over to the ticket booth.
He could barely hear his friends behind him over the sound of the trains and the other people, but he wasn't really listening either. All Bickslow knew was that he needed to get out, and the sooner, the better. The longer he stood on that platform in that town, the harder it was to breath.
Bickslow just couldn't deal with it all right then. He needed to leave to get his thoughts into order and remind himself one last time that he'd done everything for a good reason. And then maybe, in a few days, he'd be ready to come back and try again. He'd be ready to face Lucy then. Hopefully.
But even if he wasn't ready to face Lucy, he would still go and find her. Bickslow knew that by then he wouldn't be able to stop himself from doing so. His heart would win out and his desire to see her smile and hold her would get the better of him, and there would be nothing he could do about it.
But it was just a few days he needed. Just a few more days, and hopefully, he'd be ready to face all of his demons and the one perfect angel once again.
High above the ground with just a few thin mats beneath him should he fall, Bickslow balanced on just one of his babies. His palm was flat on the top of it, his feet together above him, and his other arm outstretched to the side to keep him steady.
His breathing remained steady as he channelled his focus into staying upright and keeping his balance, and he ignored the way his singlet was falling down and towards the ground. As long as it didn't get in his eyes, he didn't care much. It was hard to avoid unless he went without the shirt, and even then, his loose basketball shorts weren't exactly staying as long as they were supposed to be. It was just something that couldn't be avoided when you stayed upside down, and clothes not conforming to the gravitational pull was something he was used to.
Bickslow pushed his head back to look to one of his other babies floating just a few feet in front of him then, along with the rest of them. All in a line above the mats and all at the same height, ready for Bickslow to let them move when he himself was ready to move.
"You ready, babies?" he asked when he slowly switched to balance on his other hand, and he tilted his head back even more to see them all bounce around in the air ever so slightly.
"Ready! Ready!" they chanted, and a wide grin split his lips.
All he had to do was push off on his hand enough to get him into the air, only to flip himself around to land on another doll on one foot, before quickly pushing off that one and using it as a stepping stone to to flip himself around again to land on his hands on another one. Just with a few more twists if he really wanted to show off, but right then, he wasn't planning on doing that. It was simple enough, really, but the entire thing was about trust. He had to trust his babies to get to where he needed them without him controlling them and moving them himself. If they weren't in the right place at the right time, or just a few millimetres off or a few milliseconds out, he could land flat on his back. And if he wasn't using it for training purposes, then… Things could end pretty badly.
But Bickslow trusted his babies, so he wasn't really that worried about landing flat on his back. Or on his stomach. Or on his head. But still, the mats were there just in case anyway. He hadn't really moved them around that much, since after all, half of the gym floor was covered in mats. He had a fair few of them all lined up along his tumbling mat too, and god knows he'd found himself staggering off onto them or just completely landing on them more than once in the all the years his team had had the place. They were just precautionary measures. Just in case his first attempt at not completely controlling his babies' movements to keep him in the air ended slightly horribly.
He believed he wouldn't need them though, because he trusted his babies. A lot.
As Bickslow carefully switched hands again, he took a steadying breath, closed his eyes, and all of the muscles in that arm tensed, just enough to push him off and into the air. Just when he was sure he should have been landing on one, given that he was supposed to stay at the same height, he realised he was falling.
And Bickslow fell hard, and with a loud thud and a groan, he landed flat on his back on the mats that he was wishing were just a little bit thicker. Well that wasn't supposed to happen. "Babies… I thought you were ready," he groaned, slowly blinking his eyes open to stare at the rafters high above him as he slowly moved his arms out and his legs. Good… At least I can still move… Well, sort of.
"Sorry. My fault, I suppose."
That voice. That one voice that was music to his ears, and it quietly rang out over the hall.
And then everything stopped. He was sure he heard the wooden dolls that his babies were in fall to the floor as he involuntarily cut his magic off, and he was almost certain he'd stopped breathing, just like his heart had stopped beating. He couldn't move anymore. He couldn't think. He just couldn't do anything.
All Bickslow could do was stare up at the rafters with wide eyes as everything started again. The sound of his own heart beating in his ears drowned out the sound of footsteps approaching, but he knew they were getting closer. And as they got closer, all Bickslow wanted to do was move. And hell, did he really fucking want to breathe. That was one thing that hadn't started up again, and it was beginning to get a little uncomfortable.
Move… Just move. It was just a whisper in his all too quiet mind, but it was enough. That desire to just see her again was enough to have him remembering how to barely breathe and move just enough. Bickslow slowly willed himself to have his tongue dart out just enough to wet his dry lips, and he swallowed, finally getting some air into his lungs.
Slowly, he pushed himself to sit up on his knees after he'd rolled to his stomach, and he sat back on his heels when he finally found it in himself to look up. Then he saw her, and his hands fell limply to his sides when he finally did.
Bickslow was left completely speechless as he watched her slowly continue to walk towards him, and the closer she got, the harder it got to breathe again. He just sat there and stared, and he fought the urge to cry. He really did. Seeing her again… That soft smile on her lips and the way her doe eyes constantly sparkled. He'd missed that. Truly.
He'd missed her.
For so long, all he could think about was seeing her even though he'd hoped he'd never have to again. He hadn't wanted to because he'd known it was going to be painful, and especially so for him. He was going to be reminded so brutally of what he'd left, and then everything he'd left behind would have been so close to him, yet so far at the same time.
And right then, that's what it was like. She was so close, and yet so far. But hell, had he missed her. Seeing her face again after so long had had him wishing none of what had got them to that point had happened, hoping that the last year had just been like their first one together. Seeing her face again had his breath catching and his heart skipping a beat, just like it always did when he saw her.
"Hi," she whispered once she'd come to a stop just in front of Bickslow. Just standing there in front of him, Lucy was fighting the urge to let the tears fall from her eyes. Just like she had been from the first second she'd seen him perched on one of the babies and he hadn't known she was there yet.
To actually see the love of her life again when she had spent the better part of a year wondering if he was okay, it had Lucy seriously struggling to stay on her feet. She could understand why Bickslow wasn't moving, because if he was feeling like she was – like her heart wanted to just jump out of her chest, and all she wanted to do was run to him to and remember what it felt like to be in his arms – then she just didn't blame him for looking so almost shocked. But she had done her best to move, because she had to be closer. She couldn't fall to her knees on the other side of the room.
Just standing there, barely a few feet away, it wasn't close enough though. It wasn't close enough for Bickslow either, and when his gaze slowly lifted again to stay locked with hers, he found himself slowly lifting a hand. He needed to hold her. Or at least just her hand or something. Just one touch. Something.
Lucy choked back on a sob and let the first tear fall and skate down her cheek when she lifted her own hand and their fingers loosely laced together. Just one touch to know that it was all real and it wasn't her mind playing tricks on her.
But just one touch wasn't enough for Lucy, and Bickslow quickly realised the same as his own eyes filled with tears. So swiftly, he remembered how to move, and with his hand around hers, he pulled her down as she leant down with the same thought in her mind, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her to bury his face in the crook of her neck.
He couldn't have held her any closer if he'd tried, but he did try nonetheless. One arm around her waist and gripping the fabric of her shirt, and the other at the back of her head and tangling up in the flaxen tresses. Feeling Lucy in his arms again was almost like nothing else. All Bickslow wanted was to stay there forever, because with Lucy there like that, he could forget about everything and just pretend that everything was back to normal. The world could disappear around them like it usually did, and for just a moment, he could pretend he was happy
He could be happy because he had the love of his life in his arms again, holding him just as tightly as he was holding her, and he could pretend that nothing had changed.
But so much had changed, and as much as they both wanted to just ignore it, they also both knew they couldn't. Because so much had changed.
Lucy sniffled when she finally managed to pull her own head away from where it was resting on his shoulder, and a watery laugh escaped her lips when she met his glistening eyes again. It was rare to see Bickslow cry – or close to it at all – but she'd seen it. She had seen all of the things he let no one else see, and right then, that included the way the usually garnet eyes had a barely there and soft green glow to them. Lucy knew what it meant too and why it was happening, but she didn't care. She knew he couldn't hurt her and that was because she'd seen it before. She hadn't minded the first time it had happened, and she sure as hell didn't mind then.
She lifted a hand to brush against his jaw, and her thumb gently swiped across his cheek as she slowly moved to let her forehead rest against his. "It's been a while," she whispered.
"It has," he breathed. He couldn't help but let out his own airy chuckle with that and smile for just a brief moment. Lucy's smile had always been so contagious, and even then when there were tears streaming down her face, Bickslow could see the happiness in those big brown eyes of hers.
Just seeing that had Bickslow closing his eyes when he felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from his heart. Everything had been because he'd wanted Lucy to be happy again, and Bickslow could see that she was then. Constantly, it was what he'd always wondered. Every single day he had questioned whether everything had been worth it or if it would still be worth it, and now, Bickslow knew that it hadn't all been for nothing. He hadn't made himself miserable for so long for nothing.
And whether Lucy had been happy for a while, or she was happy just because of him in that moment – which he so desperately hoped for, since in that moment, Bickslow felt happier than he had in an incredibly long time – he just had no idea. He just knew that she was actually happy in that moment, and it was an amazing feeling for Bickslow to see that.
His hand in her hair slowly moved as his fingers ran through the soft strands, and his brow furrowed slightly against hers. "Your hair is longer," Bickslow murmured. Her hair had been the same for so long, and just something as simple as that was just a painful reminder that everything had changed. Everything was different and nothing was the same anymore. Nothing was the same between them, and he had to remember that.
But still, he had to admit she looked just as good with long hair as she did with short. But maybe he was a little biased in his opinion, because she looked good with anything. To Bickslow, it had never really been about her physical and outer beauty. The fact that she was drop dead gorgeous and hands down the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen had been irrelevant. He had never fallen in love with her because of that; it was her inner beauty he loved, and that was the way it had always been.
Lucy laughed quietly again then, only to drop one of her own hands to the fabric of his shirt as she lifted it up slightly. "And you got a tattoo," she replied. Her eyes slowly roved down his face, away from his entrancing eyes and the dark mark across the bridge of his nose, past the suddenly wide grin, and down to where her hand was as she slowly continued to push the side of the shirt up.
Her fingers delicately traced over the large black key that sat just above the faded scar that was on his side and curved onto his stomach. From the almost heart-shaped handle, to the 'always' in the fancy scrawl that made up the stem and connected it all, to the bow with the slight motifs that reminded her of Aquarius' key.
"Got far too drunk on Valentine's day," Bickslow mumbled then, closing his eyes and just focusing on the way she ran her fingers over his scars; across where he knew his tattoo the size of one of his scars was, down over the one on his side, and along the straighter one on his back.
Just her touch alone had every single muscle relaxing as one, and he did his best to not let himself get too deep into his own mind. All he wanted to do was pretend that everything was back to normal and that nothing had changed.
"Bickslow."
But then the way Lucy said his name had him opening his eyes again, and as she brought her hand back up to hold his face between them both, he was once again reminded that everything had changed. He'd made it so. And he could see the fresh tears brimming in her chocolate eyes as he met them with his own, knowing full well that they'd returned to the usual shade they were. Her smile was gone and the happiness was just in the background, buried beneath the pain. And it was breaking his heart to see that.
Lucy didn't want to be like that though. More than anything, she wished she didn't have to say the words that she'd soon be saying, because just sitting there with Bickslow had been the happiest moment she'd had in a long time. But she was going to ruin it for them both, and she knew that. She had to do it though.
It was why she'd gone there in the first place. It wasn't to see Bickslow; to hold him and be held by him. It was to tell him about the chance at a family she had lost. He needed to know, and Lucy had known that for a long time. And now, after nearly a year, he was finally going to know.
It was going to break her own heart to bring it all back up, and she knew it would because she could feel it tearing apart at the seams as she sat there, but it had to be done. She would face all of that pain and deal with all that misery, grief, and guilt again because she knew it was the right thing to do.
"I-I… I need you to know that I love you, okay?" she whispered as her thumbs brushed across his cheeks again. "I never did stop loving you, and I never will stop loving you. I need you to understand that."
And Bickslow did know. He'd doubted whether she would still love him after what he'd done, but somewhere, deep down, he'd known. They were supposed to have spent the rest of their lives together, had a family and grown old. Together. He'd screwed all of that up though. For Lucy. And right then, Bickslow was only finding himself wondering if it really had been worth it. He knew their happy moment was quickly ending, and even though all he wanted to do was tell her how much he loved her, he couldn't.
When he remained silent, Lucy quickly leant forward to press their lips together, and she choked back a cry as she felt another tear roll down her own cheek. She'd just needed to feel that again. Just once more, because she knew she was going to be ruining more than just a moment.
And just as quickly, after a kiss that was far too short in both of their opinions, she took a shaky breath as she pulled back, and she looked back into the red eyes that were so full of concern and worry. But she couldn't hold it. She couldn't see the way it would crush him, because it would just crush her all the more. It would crush her soul to see the pain it would cause Bickslow. "I… I was pregnant," she finally whispered, her eyes closing when she felt that first sharp stab in her heart as Bickslow dropped his hands, finally disentangling from her hair and where it had been on her waist. "Last year."
"…What?" He wasn't sure he'd heard her right at all.
She dropped her head even more and let the tears fall onto her lap and she did her best to squeeze her eyes shut. "I wasn't very far along when I…when I lost it…" she whispered again. "I-I had wanted to t-tell you that we were go-going to have a b-baby, but I just w-wanted to wait until the right m-moment. I…I found out on that last job I took b-before you took that one at 8-Island. A w-week before I got back I found out, and as m-much as I w-wanted to tell you as soon as I got back, I-I just… couldn't…"
Bickslow couldn't do anything. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe. He could only sit there in shock and listen to the words he hadn't expected to be hearing, and didn't want to be hearing.
"A-And then you got hurt a-and I was so worried about you… I just wanted you to wake up so I could tell you, but… B-But then everything with T-Tartaros got so out of hand, and… And…" She let out a single heart wrenching sob when her chest got unbearably tight. Everything was coming back, and Lucy was sure it felt worse than it had in the last year. "And I just h-hate myself, and I blame myself for w-what happened, a-and you s-should hate me b-because I… Because I lost our baby."
And oh, was that was the truth. Lucy knew she shouldn't hate herself or blame herself as much as she did, but she couldn't help it. There had been something living inside of her, and then there just… hadn't been. And even if there was nothing she could have done to prevent it (she knew that much), it still hurt like hell to know that she hadn't been able to protect and nurture her own unborn child when it had needed it.
She'd almost felt like a failure, but she couldn't tell Bickslow that. She couldn't tell Bickslow just how much it had hurt her and how it had really made her feel, because she didn't want him to feel sorry for her. She knew he would if he knew everything, because she knew Bickslow. He would put everything – absolutely everything – aside to make her happiness the priority or to just make sure she was okay. It was something he had always done, and as much as she loved that, she didn't want that then.
She wanted to deal with it all on her own again. She needed to do it all alone again, and she was fine with that.
"And I c-couldn't face you because of it. I didn't w-want you to hate me because I didn't w-want you t-to leave, because… Because e-everyone else left and…" She paused to shake her head slightly. It wasn't about everyone leaving. Not then. "That doesn't matter," she mumbled. "I just… I-I was s-so worried that I couldn't t-tell you what had happened and I j-just wanted to deal with it on my own, but… But it was h-hard. And I just n-needed you to know what had happened… What I-I'd done… A-And that it was never about you not being able to m-make me happy, because you could… You a-always could and you a-always will be able to. I-I just… wanted t-to try and do it all on m-my own and k-keep you from getting hurt, and I-I knew that it was w-wrong of me to do that… and I'm… I'm s-sorry."
She gave Bickslow a few moments to say something – anything at all – but he just remained silent, and the longer he did so, the more it hurt. She could feel that pain in her chest that made it damn near impossible to breathe and was like something was forcibly pulling her heart apart, twisting it and crushing it until it was nothing but dust.
But she'd expected that. Truly. It still hurt like hell though, and when the silence became too painful for her, Lucy slowly pushed herself from where she knelt on the thin mat to stand before Bickslow. She reached up to dry her eyes as she slowly began to walk backwards on shaky legs, and finally seeing the look on Bickslow's face had what was left of her heart breaking into smithereens.
He just looked so lost. The way his usually so vibrant eyes seemed dull, and weren't focused on anything at all. He didn't move at all, not even to blink, and Lucy couldn't help but think he'd broken him. She had broken his own heart and soul just as much as she had her own, and it had her remembering just why she'd never wanted to tell him any of it in the first place.
"I'm s-so sorry, Bickslow," she choked out finally, the tears continuing to stream down her face as she slowly backed away. She couldn't stay. Not then. "I-I never wanted you to get hurt."
And by the time Lucy was long gone, the heavy doors having slammed closed behind her, it had been too late for Bickslow to try and salvage anything. He just hadn't been able to move, let alone breathe. He couldn't. He'd only been able to listen to every single word that left her lips.
He had just desperately been trying to wrap his head around it all, but he was failing. Dismally. To know… To know that they had had a baby on the way at some point, for however brief it was, it brought just a tiny glimmer of joy to his life then. To know that an actual family had been within reach. It was all Bickslow had wanted. All of it with Lucy.
But then… That had been gone, and she'd been dealing with it on her own. It wasn't the fact that she'd lost the baby that hurt Bickslow. No, it was that she'd gone through all of it alone. And for so long, she'd kept that to herself. He could only imagine just how she'd felt when all of it had been happening, and even then, Bickslow knew his imagination would come nowhere close to what she was actually feeling. He knew there was more she wasn't telling him, and he wanted to believe it was okay, that she had her reasons, but he just couldn't.
He couldn't believe that when he all he wanted to do was know everything. That's what he was for, wasn't it? Weren't they supposed to do everything together? If he'd known, he would have been there for her. He wouldn't have left if he'd known what it had all been about. Because knowing that the way she'd been before he'd left was because of what she'd been going through alone was just a reason for Bickslow to hate himself.
Bickslow wasn't mad at her though, nor did he hate her. He could never hate her, and even if he could, it would never be because of something like that. Never in a million years. But she couldn't see that. And he knew he needed to make her see that, but he didn't know how to.
Even then, though, as everything fell into place and he processed everything she'd said in his motionless silence, all he could think about was getting to Lucy to help her understand that he would have been there for her. Hell, he would still be there for her if she'd let him, because he still loved her – like he always would – and he would do anything to make sure she was okay.
And right then, Bickslow knew she wasn't.
It was only then when his body remembered how to move did he finally scramble to his feet, and the five wooden dolls that his babies were in slowly raised themselves from where they had fallen and hovered in the air again. Except when he went to take a single step, the only thing on his mind being getting to Lucy, he fell back down to his knees and he fell forward onto his hands.
Everything was hitting him then, and it fucking hurt. He couldn't breathe again, and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears, and he could feel the way his own guilt was tearing him apart from the inside all over again.
He'd left her when she'd needed him the most, and right then, Bickslow just really had no idea what to do. He realised Lucy was gone, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to find her now. He'd sat there for far too long and he hadn't said a fucking thing. He had let her believe that he hated her for what had happened, and for that, Bickslow hated himself.
More than he had in a long, long time.
Bickslow gently kicked his apartment door closed behind him and he reached out to flick the lights on as he pulled his visor off before dropping it down to the ground. He was almost pleasantly surprised to find the lights working, having only been down to pay the bills he knew he needed to pay that same morning. After getting off the train in Magnolia again, he'd been everywhere apart from his own apartment. Until that moment, anyway.
Bickslow had been everywhere his feet would take him, just because he hadn't wanted to go home yet. Not that it was really home anymore anyway. He'd been to Lucy's apartment, only to find that she wasn't there, and he'd been to to the roof of the toy store just to sit and stare out at the town that had been rebuilt while he'd been gone. He'd been to the guild to see everyone working hard on getting it ready for the re-opening in just one week's time, and he'd been to the post office to pay his damn bills.
And then he'd gone back to his apartment, because he'd run out of places to go and ideas for where Lucy could have been. It hadn't even been a day, and she'd gone. She'd disappeared with her team before Bickslow had had a chance to talk to her.
He had no idea where she'd gone or if she was even coming back, and Bickslow could only blame himself for Lucy wanting to leave. She was so certain that he hated her for what had happened that she needed to get away, that she needed her space, but Bickslow only hated himself for that. He could only think that things would be different if he'd been able to open his goddamn mouth and tell her how wrong she was.
Because for once in her life, Lucy Heartfilia really was wrong, and Bickslow couldn't tell her that, because she wasn't there. Because of him. And there just wasn't a single thing he could do about it.
He looked around his apartment with a pained look before turning and heading straight for the short hall and his bedroom. The bag he had over his shoulder fell to the floor by the door as he pushed it open, and he looked at everything in the dim room.
The made bed with the deep purple comforter, the black rug in the centre of the room, dark curtains, the dresser at the end of his bed and next to the door… Everything was the same as it was when he'd left it. Nothing had been touched, including the frame hanging above his bed with the two sheets of paper in them with the story and the letter Lucy written more than a year before.
It was like his apartment was frozen in time, stuck in a time when things were happier and what was left of the world wasn't falling apart at his very feet. He made his way over to the window to pull the drapes open, only to sneeze when all of the dust settled in the fabric was disturbed and scattered around the room that hadn't been touched in so long. Bickslow turned then, his eyes taking in every single little thing in the room that made him feel like it was the year before and nothing had changed.
He could see the heavy book sitting on the nightstand, and his feet quickly had him crossing the short distance to sit down on the edge of the bed that Lucy had claimed as hers so long ago. His heart sank as he reached for the book, and his hand swiped over the black and red cover to clear the layer of dust that had settled on it. She had read the book cover-to-cover, and Bickslow still remembered the last time he'd seen her reading it, just because she could.
It had been the day she'd gotten back from her last job; their last night together before everything had gone wrong. She'd been sitting up, as usual, reading through sections she'd already read. And Bickslow hadn't paid much attention to it, because she often did it and he was used to it. At the time, he hadn't paid much attention to just what part she was reading either, because when he'd asked her just why she was reading about the chances and possibilities of children being born with such magic, she had said she'd just been curious. And he'd left it at that, because at the time, he had had no idea that she'd actually been pregnant.
To think that at that point, one of the last truly happy moments they'd had together, he could have been happier. If he'd known that they'd been going to have a baby, then he would have been happy. Happier than he'd ever been in his entire life, for however of a brief moment it was.
He still didn't hate her or blame her for not telling him though. Not one tiny bit. It just hurt like hell to know how close things had been back then.
Carefully placing the book down on the nightstand, back where it had been left untouched, Bickslow slowly stood as he finally shrugged his cloak off and let it fall to the bed that was as equally covered in dust as everything else in his apartment. With the afternoon sun streaming in through the open curtains, Bickslow could see the tiny particles slowly floating down and settling on the surfaces the sun hit, and although he wasn't exactly a neat freak, he did enjoy things to be clean. It didn't help that he'd lived with Lucy for the better part of a year and she had a few habits regarding cleanliness and organisation that had worn off on him, but his apartment, though neat, was just beginning to irritate him. That, and dust had always made him sneeze a lot and all of it being disturbed in his room alone had it tickling his nose and making him more than uncomfortable.
He ignored that though, and did his best to squash the urge to just clean every surface and everything covered in dust, because it wasn't anywhere near as bad as how everything just hurt.
He went over the wardrobe then, and he only quickly pulled the doors open, half expecting to see empty hangers where Lucy kept a few things, but with a quick glance, he saw nothing was gone. That same navy blue dress she'd worn on their first date was hanging on the back of the door, just where she'd left it.
As his chest tightened, he quickly turned on his heels and went over to the dresser before he began to pull out the first few drawers, and seeing them filled with her things had Bickslow beginning to really have difficulty breathing.
The bathroom was just the same, as he'd expected, and before his eyes began to sting too much, the same way they did when his emotions went into flux and his control began to slip, Bickslow quickly turned again. He left the open drawers and doors behind him as he fled out into the short hall to the rest of his apartment, and only after slamming his bedroom door closed behind him did he slide down to the floor with his back against the end of the breakfast bar.
It wasn't supposed to be like that. None of her things were supposed to still be there. Her clothes, books, favourite soaps, lotions, shampoos. Hell, her damn fucking bright pink toothbrush. Nothing was supposed to be there, left untouched like he'd only been gone for a few days and Lucy would be coming back herself to spend the night like she usually did.
His apartment had been frozen in the time since the moment he'd locked the door behind him, and coming back just brought back every single memory, good and bad. And everything he'd left behind. It always came back to that. For Bickslow, it had constantly been about what he'd left, and everything in his apartment was a painful reminder of that. Bickslow couldn't bring himself to move from where he sat, not when he was surrounded by mementos from their life together.
He threw his head back into the counter and closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. He knew he needed to calm himself down, get everything under control as best he could and calm his heart's beating that drowned out everything else in his ears.
He didn't hear his apartment door open then, nor did he hear the two sets of heavy footsteps, followed by a lighter set come into his apartment and stop just in front of him. He was too busy trying to calm himself down, because right then, it was necessary. If he didn't get his emotions under control, he was sure to fall into an even darker and deeper pit of despair he was already in.
"Bickslow?"
His brow furrowed when he heard the familiar voice seep through the deafening sound in his ears.
"Want your visor?" the same voice asked, and Bickslow could only shake his head when he recognised the usually gruff voice as belonging to Laxus. He probably needed his visor, but he didn't want it. Not in his own apartment. He hated wearing it there.
"Gimme a minute," Bickslow mumbled finally, swallowing to ease the dryness at the back of his throat. Just a minute or two. That was all he needed. Just enough time to let himself back down to make sure he was back in control and he wasn't going to hurt anyone because even then, Lucy was still the only person he trusted enough to have his eyes open when he was far from stable. And it was because Lucy trusted him not to hurt her.
But Lucy wasn't there. It was Laxus, and even though Bickslow knew that Evergreen and Freed had brought up their concern for him when it had come to his magic becoming more unstable than it had in a long time after leaving Magnolia in the letters to Laxus, he wasn't going to risk anything.
He only heard shuffling around him as he got everything slowly under control – his breathing, his heart rate, his eyes – and he silently began to wonder if it was really just Laxus there, but when he heard a very high pitched sneeze, no doubt from all the dust in the room, he was sure it wasn't just Laxus.
"You good?" Laxus asked after a few silent moments, watching as the Seith mage dropped his head and run his hands down his face.
Bickslow nodded eventually. Eyes are good, everything else, not so much. "Yeah, I'm good," he mumbled as he slowly lifted his head again and pushed it into the counter again, letting his arms come to rest on his knees before he slowly opened his eyes. Bickslow blinked in confusion when he saw the three mages sitting down on the ground opposite him. Laxus had his back against the wall with one knee up, Gajeel sitting next to the blond with his legs crossed, and Levy sitting on her knees just next to himself, each of them with looks of concerns on their faces. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked, sitting up ever so slightly in an attempt to give himself just that tiny bit more space in the cramped area between the end of his breakfast bar and the wall..
"Checking in on you," Laxus replied. It was the truth, and even though he wouldn't say the words out loud, he was worried about the Seith mage. Just as much as Gajeel and Levy were. It was really why they were there.
They weren't stupid. They knew where Lucy had gone the day before. And even if they hadn't known exactly why Lucy had suddenly run off from the guild, it had been pretty easy to figure out once she'd come back that same night an absolute mess, only to beg her team to take one of the few jobs the guild had started receiving with the reformation being widely known. They all knew exactly why she'd come back in such a state too. Laxus more than the others, just because he was the only one who knew just how much Lucy had wanted to tell Bickslow about the baby.
Bickslow didn't know that they knew though. He didn't know that anyone knew at all – not about the baby, not about what she had told him in Hargeon – and it was precisely why Bickslow was confused as to why he had people needing to check in on him. "I'm fine. You don't need to—"
"We know you saw Lucy," Gajeel cut him off, his own intense red eyes staring into Bickslow's. It wasn't the time to avoid the point, not when Bickslow would do everything he could to pretend he was truly fine if he believed no one else knew what had happened.
"So don't say you're fine, Bickslow," Levy said softly as she reached out a small hand to lay it over Bickslow's arm. "Because we know what happened with Lucy."
…What happened? Does that mean they know what happened in Hargeon? Or about the baby? "What?" Bickslow whispered as he looked up. His brow was furrowed as he slowly turned to Laxus, and seeing the unwavering certainty in the stormy eyes had Bickslow's pulse increasing steadily. "You knew?"
Laxus nodded once. "Wendy told us just after you left." Bickslow hadn't needed to say anything else for Laxus to know what he was asking.
Hearing the words had the Seith mage closing his eyes again and counting to three in his head. He was quickly losing himself again, and for the first time in the last few days – months, even – Bickslow wasn't mad at himself. Not really, then. No, he was mad at Laxus. His best friend – the one person he trusted the most aside from Lucy – had known about the baby before he had, and he hadn't even told him. So many opportunities to do so, and yet he'd kept silent.
Bickslow hated that Laxus had done that. It really wasn't about him not even knowing about his own child, because in a way, he could accept Lucy's reasoning for not telling him. It sucked, but he got it. It was about Laxus not telling him when he'd known for nearly a year. He felt betrayed, almost. Because Laxus knew better than anyone – just like his team – how Bickslow had felt for that year. There hadn't been a single day where he'd actually been happy, or even close to it. He'd felt guilty the entire time, and Laxus had let him. He'd let him stay away when Bickslow knew he should have been with Lucy.
"You mean… You knew for an entire goddamn year… And you didn't tell me?" Bickslow asked, his voice soft but laced with venom as he narrowed his eyes at Laxus. "Did you just… forget to mention it? Oh, yeah, by the way, we're having a baby, and speaking of kids, your girlfriend had a miscarriage. Is that it?"
Laxus tried his best to keep his own emotions in check then, but his best friend had always had a habit of irritating him and it was incredibly difficult to do so to keep calm sometimes, especially when he was placing the blame on him. And to Laxus, that just wasn't fair. "Bicks, you know that's not what it's like," he warned.
"No?" Bickslow suddenly shot up to his feet at Laxus did so, and he paced as the stoic Dragon Slayer held his ground. "What's it like then? Huh, Laxus?" he spat when he turned back around, his own arms folded as he slowly began to walk back and forth in front of his dining table. "Please. Explain it to me. Because I don't fucking understand why you didn't fucking tell me."
"It wasn't my place to do so," Laxus replied calmly, his eyes trained on the agitated Seith mage. And it hadn't been his place to do so. As much as he'd wanted to go and find Bickslow after finding out from Wendy, just to shock some sense into him – much like Gajeel had wanted to – he'd known he couldn't. Lucy hadn't told him because she hadn't wanted Bickslow to know, and Laxus wasn't going to blurt out a secret that he shouldn't have known in the first place, regardless of how he thought Bickslow should have always known.
"You should have told me, Laxus. It was my fucking kid and I deserved to know last fucking year, because you know I would have come right back if I'd known."
Laxus stepped up to the Seith mage with his own scowl. "You think I don't know that, Bicks?" he chided, his stormy grey eyes meeting the deep red that were surprisingly not as filled with anger as he'd expected. "We wanted to come and get you. Drag you back here by your fucking tongue if we had to."
"It's true, we did," Gajeel agreed quietly, only getting a quick glance from Bickslow.
"But we couldn't," Laxus continued. "Because Lucy didn't want you to know, because she didn't want you to be hurt and she didn't want you to hate her for it."
Bickslow suddenly stumbled backwards when he averted his gaze, when all of his anger towards Laxus for keeping it from him for so long was instantly replaced by that self-loathing. "I know…" he mumbled, only turning and leaning over his dust-covered counter on his elbows with his forehead resting on the cold surface. "I know she thinks I hate her for it…"
"But you don't."
"Of course I don't. I… I hate myself for it," he whispered, closing his eyes once again. "I should have… I should have stayed. I could have helped her if I'd known. If I'd known, I wouldn't have left and… And she wouldn't have had to deal with it alone…"
Laxus sighed with a roll of his eyes before he stepped forward again, and pulled the Seith mage up with a hand around his shoulder. "Alright, come 'ere," he mumbled, only pulling the tense man into a hug because he knew the guy needed one. Desperately. "Tell anyone I did this and I'll kill you."
If Bickslow had the ability to laugh then, he probably would have. Hell, if he could have questioned why Laxus was hugging him, he would have. But he couldn't. He just didn't have the energy to do so, if he told the truth. "I don't know how she could think I'd hate her for that…" he whispered sadly. "I could never hate her for anything. Least of all for that."
"Because she blames herself for it," Levy answered.
"I don't want her to though…" Bickslow didn't want Lucy to blame herself for it. She shouldn't feel guilty. And sure, he did kind of understand it a little bit, and he'd accepted that he would never understand just how she felt, but he still didn't want her to blame herself for what had happened. She had been through enough in such a short period of time that she didn't need the guilt of losing a baby weighing her down not when it wasn't even her fault.
And Bickslow wanted to tell her all of that. He wanted to tell her she shouldn't hate herself and she shouldn't believe that he would hate her for it, but he couldn't. And that's what hurt. She hadn't given him a chance to do anything, and Bickslow could only think that he'd missed his chance to do so.
He turned then and ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath as he heavily sat down on his lounge. "I just… I want her to know—" He paused when the swirling dust in the room made him sneeze again and bite the tip of his tongue. "Damn it. Too much dust," he mumbled, only rubbing his nose with the back of his hand as he lightly shook his head before continuing with a numb tongue, "I want her to know that I don't hate her and that I still want to be there for her… But I can't, and it fucking hurts."
"Why can't you tell her?" Laxus asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because she left," Bickslow said. "She didn't even give me a chance to do anything yesterday, and I know it was my fault because I was too fucking stupid to even open my goddamn mouth, but now I don't know where she is."
"Tell her when she gets back then."
Bickslow lifted his head when Levy sat down on the lounge next to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "How do you even know she'll be back? She's probably gone because of me—"
"She went on a job," Laxus interrupted. "So don't blame yourself for her leaving. She just wanted her space, and she wanted to give you yours."
"But I don't need space. I need her."
"Then tell her that when she gets back," Levy said softly with a small smile. "She needs to hear that more than you think."
Bickslow nodded as he forced himself to smile for just a brief moment. He wanted to believe that Lucy would still need him, he really did, because he still needed her. He would always need her.
But he had to believe that she really would come back, whether it be in a few days or weeks. When she got back, he would tell her what he'd needed to the say the day before. Even if she didn't want to hear it, or she didn't believe it, he needed to say it, and he'd sure as hell do his best to make her believe it. She needed to hear it all as much as he needed to say it.
"Now," Bickslow looked up when Laxus clapped his hands together with a scowl and walked around to his kitchen before opening up the cupboards under the sink. "I can deal with inhaling magical barrier particles, but I can't deal with breathing in dust," Laxus said matter-of-factly before he started pulling out every single cleaning product he could find.
Bickslow finally let out a weak chuckle then as he stood from the lounge and went back over to the counter. He'd never particularly enjoyed cleaning, but right then, he wanted to. And it wasn't entirely because he needed to, but he needed a distraction. He needed something to occupy his thoughts that were just trying to pull him under, because if he didn't, he was bound to hate himself even more than he already did, and no doubt start believing that Lucy hated him for leaving when he knew he should have stayed.
And if he let himself believe that Lucy truly hated him, then that was something he would never come back from.
For weeks, Bickslow sat in the guild after it finally got reopened, waiting each day for Lucy to come back. July ended and August rolled in, and the further into August it got, the more Bickslow hated himself. All he wanted was for Lucy to come back from whatever job she was out on with her team so he could go and talk to her, but the longer she was away, the more he began to think that she wasn't coming back.
The guild just wasn't the same without her or her team, and everyone knew it. Lucy had been the one to bring everyone together when they'd needed it, with everyone coming back from all corners of Fiore, and she hadn't even been there to finally celebrate Fairy Tail being back.
For weeks, he sat with his team like he used to. He watched Laxus and Mira with Jax on the days that they brought him in. He watched Evergreen get all close and comfortable with Elfman again, and he watched Gajeel and Levy. Everyone around him was happy while he was miserable, but there was nothing anyone could do to cheer him up.
Freed had suggested going on a few jobs to help take his mind off Lucy, but Bickslow just didn't want to go. He wanted to be back when Lucy was, so going out on a job just wasn't an option.
Laxus had suggested cleaning his apartment again, but Bickslow couldn't do it again. He'd already taken to cleaning to help distract him – just another habit he'd picked up from Lucy – but he really couldn't clean the already close to spotless apartment again. It was bad enough he couldn't bring himself to touch or even move any of Lucy's things. Every drawer, every shelf, every cupboard that had anything of hers was left untouched.
But no matter how many distractions were offered to him, nothing really took his mind off Lucy. He could never really go very long without thinking of her as it was, but with her gone when there was so much he needed her to know, it was making his mind a very dark place.
All Bickslow could think about was the fact that things could have been very different if he'd known about the baby the year before. If he'd known, he wouldn't have left, because Lucy shouldn't have been alone. They should have dealt with it together because it was their child, and still, Bickslow couldn't blame her. Or hate her. He just hated himself. He would never be able to forgive himself for leaving, even if he had thought it was the best thing to do at the time. He just needed Lucy to forgive him. If she could, that is, because Bickslow didn't think she would.
He could still hope though.
On that particular day though, Bickslow's mind was darker than usual, and people were wise to steer clear of him in the guild. If he could sulk in his own apartment, he would have, but there were still too many reminders of Lucy there. It was why he'd spent so much time in the guild over the weeks. He just couldn't face any of those reminders. And on that day, he definitely could not face them. Not when it was what would have been their two-year anniversary if they'd stayed together, and the day he'd been planning to propose on the year before.
Everything just fucking hurt more than usual on that day, and Bickslow wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone at all.
But then Bickslow looked up from his dark corner when he heard the guild doors open and then the unmistakable whining of a certain Dragon Slayer went out over the guild. His heart thumped in his chest when the rest of Lucy's team walked in through the doors, all covered in bandages and limping slightly as they bickered. Seeing them, Bickslow quickly got on his feet and pushed past everyone in his way to get out of the guild, the ends of his cloak billowing behind him as he left everyone and everything else behind. He didn't care about anything but Lucy then, and more than anything, he hoped that it meant she was back.
Bickslow looked to the blonde sleeping peacefully on the bed just in front of him, completely unaware of his presence as he sat down on the chair at her desk. He looked to the bandages he could see – one around the middle of her thigh, another just above her wrist, and a larger one around her abdomen that was peeking out from the bottom of her shirt – and his heart sank just a little from seeing her in such a state. Bickslow had never liked seeing Lucy with injuries, no matter how big or small, because it had always put him in pain to know that she was in pain. And right then, it hurt more than it ever had.
He knew she would be fine though. She'd had Wendy tending to the slightly more major injuries she received on her job, the worst being a deep cut across her hip, and Bickslow believed in Wendy. But still, Bickslow couldn't bring himself to leave then. Part of him said it wasn't really right for him to be there when she was asleep, but the part of him that wanted to actually make sure she was okay won out. It didn't entirely help that he was worried she'd run off again once she did wake up in a few hours, because Bickslow couldn't help but believe she had done it to avoid him, no matter what everyone else told him.
As he leant forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, he stopped suddenly and looked towards the corner of her desk from the corner of his eyes. All of her jewellery that she'd apparently been wearing had been taken off, and he hadn't taken much notice to it all until then. He saw the same necklace he'd given her for Christmas, the first time he'd actually told her that he loved her, and he saw the charm bracelet from her nineteenth birthday. They weren't what intrigued him the most though. It was the other necklace with the ring on it that did that, and it had his heart actually stopping as he slowly lifted a hand to pull it towards him.
Bickslow had never expected to see that ring again. Hell, he hadn't expected Lucy to keep it either, but she did, and she'd worn it around her goddamn neck - not that Bickslow was complaining. He had said she could do whatever she wanted with it, since it was hers, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't just a little endearing to know she'd kept it.
He lifted up the chain then as he sat back in the chair, and he let the ring fall to the bottom of it as he idly began to swing it as he wrapped it around his fingers. His eyes flicked back to Lucy as she shifted on the bed, a quiet sigh escaping her lips as she remained asleep. As he looked back and forth between the blonde and the ring, he couldn't help but wonder if they could make things work again. Because god, was that all he wanted. If he had the opportunity to be with Lucy again, he would. In a heartbeat, he would take it because she was the only person and thing in the entire world who could make him happy.
For so long, Bickslow had thought he actually had been happy, but it had only taken Lucy coming into his life for him to realise that he hadn't been. There had always been something missing from his life, and he hadn't known that until Lucy had made him feel complete. And still, he'd never quite gotten over the fact that it was Lucy Heartfilia of all people that he would love and cherish more than any other thing or person in the entire world. It had always almost felt too good to be true to have Lucy in his life, but he'd never really taken it for granted. No, he'd been thankful for every single day he'd spent with her, and she'd always known that. But… There was a growing part of Bickslow that wanted all of that back.
He wanted Lucy back.
Bickslow had accepted that Lucy was gone from his life forever, because he'd left in the hopes that it was the right thing to do. He'd accepted that he was never going to see her again, and part of him had accepted that she would no doubt hate him for as long as she lived for what he'd done.
But right then, as he sat there, looking between the ring he should have proposed with exactly a year earlier, and the woman he should have proposed to, he wasn't accepting any of that.
She had said she loved him when they'd finally seen each other again after so many months, and she had said that he would always make her happy. But until that very moment, Bickslow had forgotten that. He'd forgotten what was suddenly the most important part of what she'd said that day, because he was too busy focusing on her thinking that he hated her. He had been too preoccupied with trying to figure out how Lucy thought it was even possible for him to hate her that he overlooked what was truly important.
If Lucy could forgive Bickslow for leaving when he was sure she'd needed him, then Bickslow didn't know if there was a reason that they couldn't work things out, and it had his heart warming his entire body from the inside with the possibility of it.
They'd been through hell and back together in the relatively short time (compared to what he'd originally hoped as the rest of their lives) together, and no matter what they went through, they always managed to come out on the other side just that little bit stronger.
From the first time they almost broke up when Bickslow's guilt got the better of him, to the second time they had when they'd both been too stupid to just tell each other how they felt. From Bickslow almost dying twice, to watching Lucy be tortured before his very eyes. Every time they'd gone through something terrible, they'd bounced back and everything worked out, because when they had each other, there was nothing in the entire world they couldn't face.
And to Bickslow, losing the baby was just another one of those terrible things. And sure, it really fucking sucked that it had happened, and Bickslow knew that there was already a part of him that would always remember it and he would always miss the child that could have been, but he was sure things could get better for both of them if they were together again. He truly wanted to believe that.
He wanted to believe that being apart for the better part of a year was just another thing they could put behind them, because he wanted to go back to the days where he was happy. He wanted to go back to the days where he knew Lucy was happy. He wanted to go back to the days where they were happy together and that was all that mattered.
If Lucy loved him, Bickslow desperately hoped that she could forgive him for what he'd done. If Lucy could forgive him, and he could convince her he didn't hate her, then maybe, just maybe, things could work out again. Because he was done with being miserable.
So when Lucy began to wake up just a few hours later, the sun beginning to set through her open window, Bickslow sat forward on the chair again as he gently lowered the silver chain with the diamond ring on it back to the desk. His breath caught slightly when her eyes slowly fluttered open and she smiled softly at him for a brief moment before she rubbed at her eyes.
"Hi," she whispered. She hadn't been able to help smiling when she saw him sitting on the chair at the end of her bed, just because it had been a surprise. She hadn't expected Bickslow to even want to be anywhere near her after what she'd told him, and she'd be lying if she said it still didn't hurt and she was trying to get over all of the guilt and self-loathing that had come back up.
"Hey," Bickslow said with his own soft smile. "How are you feeling?"
Is he just here to check up on me? "I've been better," she admitted as she did her best to sit up on the bed, though the sharp pain across her hip had her face turning into a grimace of pain as she did so. Bickslow could only shift forward ever so slightly on the chair when he saw the pain she was in. "So um… What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you. I need to talk to you."
"Oh…" The small bit of happiness she'd had from just being around Bickslow had quickly faded hearing the words, because she was sure she knew what it was about. And Lucy had expected them to have an actual conversation of sorts about it, especially with the way she'd left things when she'd run off.
All Lucy had been able to think about when she'd been on her job with her team was that she shouldn't have left. She should have given Bickslow a chance to say something – anything – and at least waited for him to process it all. She knew it was a lot to take in, but she'd left Bickslow to deal with it on her own. And that just wasn't fair. She'd left Bickslow to deal with something that undoubtedly hurt him too, just because it was his child too, and she hated herself just that little bit more for that.
"It's okay… We don't have to talk about it…" she whispered as she looked down at her hands. In truth, she didn't want to talk about, even though she'd seen it coming. She didn't want to hear Bickslow say that he blamed her.
"No, we do have to talk about." Bickslow got up from the chair then and quickly took the few steps to sit down on the edge of the bed. He gently took Lucy's face in his hands when she didn't look back up, and seeing the tears in her eyes had what was left of his heart breaking. "I don't hate you, okay?" he said softly. "I love you, and I always will."
"B-But… I lost our baby… How can you not hate me?"
"Like I said, I love you, Cosplayer," he whispered, his thumbs wiping her tears away as they rolled down her cheeks. "Even if it was possible for me to hate you for anything, it would never be for something like that. I'm not going to hate you for something that wasn't your fault."
She let out a strangled sob as her heart thudded painfully in her chest. All Lucy wanted to do was bury her head against Bickslow's chest and cry until she could cry no more, but her self-hatred was stopping her. She couldn't see how Bickslow could still love her, not when she truly blamed herself again. She was back at the spot she was in a year before like the last year hadn't happened at all. All of the healing and acceptance was just worthless then, because telling Bickslow had just brought it all back to the surface.
"It was my fault t-though…" she spluttered. She knew deep down it wasn't, and she'd accepted that there wasn't anything she could have done, but right then, that's just how she felt. She truly did blame herself. "I-I couldn't protect our baby… O-Or keep it s-safe…"
"Lucy, please. Stop blaming yourself," Bickslow pleaded, gently forcing her head back up when she looked down again so she could meet his eyes. "It wasn't your fault. These kind of things just happen sometimes. They suck, and they hurt like hell, but it happens. And I think you know that. I think you know that there was nothing you could have done and it wasn't your fault it happened." He paused when Lucy shrugged slightly. "But it still hurts, and I know that."
"I'm s-sorry… I never w-wanted you to get h-hurt." Because if anything, it hurt Lucy more to know that she'd hurt Bickslow.
He shifted on the bed to bring on knee up, turning so he was facing Lucy completely. "Don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for," he said softly.
"Y-Yes I do…"
"No, you don't," Bickslow insisted. "I'm the one that should be sorry." He dropped his hands from her face to loosely hold her hands within his own, and he stared down at them. The way Lucy was looking at him like she had no idea what he was talking about hurt way too much. "I'm sorry that you had to go through all of that on your own," he finally whispered.
Lucy blinked in confusion as she looked down to their joined hands.
He sighed before forcing himself to look back up, his eyes meeting Lucy's once again as he lifted one hand to cup her cheek and idly wipe her tears away again. "I'm not even going to pretend to completely understand how you felt – or feel now, even – because I don't think I ever will. I just wish you hadn't gone through all of it on your own, because it was something we should have dealt with and been through together."
"But I couldn't t-tell you…" she whispered. "I w-wanted to… B-But I was scared you would hate me." She turned her head away to duck her eyes when that guilt over keeping it a secret for so long crept up and took a hold of her.
"I know, and I know that you didn't want me to know because you didn't want to hurt me and you didn't want me to hate you, but none of that matters to me. I understand why you didn't tell me, but I just wish you'd have told me anyway," he said almost desperately. "You shouldn't have had to go through that on your own."
"Are you… Are you mad at me?"
Bickslow shook his head with a soft and pained smile. "Of course I'm not. I'm mad at myself for not being there when I should have been. That's what hurts the most to me. You shouldn't have been alone when you were in pain, and I'm never going to be able to forgive myself for leaving then."
Lucy looked up in shock then, and she shook her head frantically, only pushing her cheek into Bickslow's hand even more as her own hand wrapped around his wrist. She didn't want Bickslow to be blaming himself for that. It was one of the last things she had wanted, and it was one of the things she had been worried about the most when she had thought about telling him after all that time. "P-Please don't be mad at y-yourself," she pleaded. "Y-You didn't know… It was my fault a-and you only did what you thought w-was right."
"But I still should have been here with you. I should have stayed to make sure you were okay. I should have… I should have tried harder instead of just assuming there was nothing else I cou—"
He was silenced by Lucy's finger on his lips, and he could only blink and watch in silence as she slowly and painfully moved to sit up on her knees, the fronts of her legs pressed up against Bickslow's. She took a quiet breath to try and get herself together before she quietly said, "There was nothing else y-you could have done b-because I w-wouldn't have let you. I wanted to deal with it on my own, b-because I thought I w-was protecting you." And it was the truth. If Bickslow had stayed, he would have no doubt begun to hate himself even more the longer he watched her close herself off from the world.
The only way things would have been different would have been if she had told him about the baby then, a year ago, and let him know that pain. Lucy knew very well that it would have been a hell of a lot easier to accept and come to terms with it all if they'd dealt with it and mourned together, but she'd been so set on keeping Bickslow from knowing the pain of losing a child that she had kept it to herself. Lucy had seen Bickslow go through enough and experience enough pain in just the year they'd been together that she never wanted to see him hurt again. Ever.
And it really fucking sucked telling Bickslow about it at all, but it really did have to be done, and in a way, she really was glad that he knew. He'd always deserved to know, because it had been his child too and every parent should have the right to know about their own child and mourn, unborn or not. Lucy knew that. Truly.
But if there was one thing Lucy couldn't put up with right then, it was Bickslow not being able to forgive himself for doing what he had wholeheartedly believed as being the right thing. Because Lucy knew it had been the right thing. It hurt like hell to be apart from him, and there really hadn't been a single day where she hadn't thought about how much she missed him and how much she wished she could tell him that she loved him, but Bickslow leaving had been the right thing back then, as painful as it had been to admit that to herself all those months ago.
Without Bickslow leaving, she wouldn't have found the courage and strength to leave her home behind. Even if it hadn't been permanently. She had needed to get away, to temporarily put everything that had happened and everyone and everything she'd lost behind her, and if Bickslow hadn't left, she wouldn't have been able to do that. He had been the one thing keeping her tethered at the time, and Bickslow had known that. Without Bickslow taking that bold and brave step back, Lucy didn't think she would have smiled or even laughed at all in the last several months. She had needed to get away so she could come back when she was actually ready to face everything. She had needed time, and Bickslow had given her that.
But… All of that being said, and however thankful she was that Bickslow had been able to do that for her, no matter how painful it had been for either of them, she wasn't interested in what had happened in the last several months. Not anymore, anyway. She was home, and coming home and finally seeing Bickslow had her realising that she really did need Bickslow back in her life for her to truly be home. And she'd known that for a long time. But now… Now it was something more.
When she finally moved her finger away from Bickslow's lips, only lifting both of her hands to loosely lace at the back of his neck and in the nape of his hair, Bickslow softly said, "I need to know that you can forgive me for leaving."
"I have nothing to forgive you for."
He closed his eyes with a quiet sigh. "Does that mean you do?"
"Of course t does," she sniffled, leaning forward to rest her forehead on his.
Bickslow so desperately wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her to him and hold her close then, but he couldn't. Not when he was scared of hurting her. Instead, he had to settle with lightly having his hands rest on her waist, only barely feeling the edges of the bandages through the thin fabric of her shirt.
For the first time in a very long time, Bickslow really did feel close to happiness then. He didn't understand how Lucy could forgive him for leaving, but then again there were plenty of things he still didn't understand.
But that hope that they could work things out was stronger than it had been before. He needed Lucy back in his life, that much was for certain. Nothing seemed right without Lucy. Everything was incomplete, like his life had been before her. And he was sick of that feeling. He couldn't handle that anymore.
With everything around them slowly going back to the way things had been – to the way things should have always been – Bickslow needed just one more thing to make everything feel normal again. He needed Lucy. It was never just about wanting Lucy, but god, did he. It really was about needing her.
His heart began to thump in his chest once again when the thought of things being the way they should have always been centred in his mind. There were so many things that should have been, and Bickslow had been so sure that none of those would ever come to happen. The life with Lucy he'd walked away from – for her – held all of those, and right then, Bickslow wanted them all. A lot.
And Bickslow still wasn't sure if they were just things he would constantly wish for, or if they were things that could and would actually happen. He needed to know though. More than anything, he needed to know if they could actually make things work again.
The only problem was that he was nervous. He was rarely nervous, but right then, he'd never been more so in his entire life, and he had very good reason to be.
He opened his eyes then, and seeing the soft smile on Lucy's lips and the glimmer of actual happiness in her chocolate eyes had Bickslow's nerves calming just a little bit. She loved him. He knew that. He'd always known and he would always know that, and right then, that was what had Bickslow saying the words he should have said the year before.
"Marry me."